nto it, and pushed
off. But the tide was still making, the sea was running high, a low
ground swell was scooping up the shingle and flinging it through the
air like sleet, and in an instant the boat was cast back on the
shore. "No use, man," shouted many voices.

But Greeba cried, "Help, help, help!" She seemed to be beside herself
with suspense. Some vague fear, beyond the thought of a man's life in
peril, seemed to possess her. Did she know what it was? She did not.
She dared not fix her mind upon it. She was afraid of her own fear.
But, low down within her, and ready at any moment to leap to her
throat, was the dim ghost of a dread that he who was in the boat, and
in danger of his life on the rock, might be very near and dear to
her. With her hood fallen back from her head to her shoulders, she
ran to and fro among the men on the beach, crying, "He will be lost.
Will no one save him?"

But the other women clung to the men, and the men shook their heads
and answered, "He's past saving," and "We've got wives and childers
lookin' to us, miss--and what's the use of throwing your life away?"

Still the girl cried "Help," and then a young fellow pushed through
to where she stood, and said, "He's too near for us to stand here and
see him die."

"Oh, God bless and keep you forever and ever," cried Greeba; and,
lifted completely out of all self-control, she threw her arms about
the young man and kissed him fervently on the cheek. It was Jason. He
had found a rope and coiled one end of it about his waist, and held
the other end in his hand. The touch of Greeba's quivering lips had
been as fire to him. "Lay hold," he cried, and threw the loose end
of the rope to Thurstan Fairbrother. At the next moment he was
breast-high in the sea. The man must have seen him coming, for the
loud clamor ceased.

"Brave lad!" said Greeba, in a deep whisper.

"Brave, is it? It's mad, I'm calling it," said old Davy.

"Who is it?" said the skipper.

"The young Icelander," said Davy.

"Not the lad Jason?"----

"Aw, yes, though--Jason--the gawk, as they're saying. Poor lad
_there's_ a heart at him."

The people held their breath. Greeba covered her eyes with her hands,
and felt an impulse to scream. Wading with strong strides, and
swimming with yet stronger strokes, Jason reached the boat. A few
minutes afterwards he was back on the shore, dragging the man after
him.

The man lay insensible in Jason's arms, bleeding from a wound in t